HOT Justice: A Hostile Operations Team - Book 14 Read online

  HOT Justice

  A Hostile Operations Team - Book 14

  Lynn Raye Harris

  Contents

  Preface

  About This Book

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Also by Lynn Raye Harris

  Who’s HOT?

  About the Author

  Preface

  HOT Justice: Wolf & Haylee

  © 2019 by Lynn Raye Harris

  * * *

  Find me:

  [email protected]

  http://lynnrayeharris.com/

  Lynn on Facebook

  Lynn on Twitter

  HOT Readers and Fans Group on Facebook

  Sign up for Lynn’s Newsletter

  or text HOTTIES to 66866.

  About This Book

  She's searching for justice. He's searching for peace.

  What they need is each other. They just don't know it yet...

  * * *

  Dean "Wolf" Garner is the kind of guy who loves hard and leaves fast. From the moment he rescues reporter Haylee Jamison in the Guatemalan jungle, he can't stop thinking about the dark-haired beauty. His life is too complicated for romantic entanglements though--and not even a woman like Haylee can convince him otherwise.

  * * *

  Haylee wasn't supposed to be in the drug cartel's compound, but she was captured while on a mission of her own: find the trail of fake opioids entering the US and halt the operation. Back home in DC, Haylee can't stop thinking about the gorgeous military operator who rocked her world for one steamy night before leaving. But when she uncovers a conspiracy and finds herself in danger, there's only one man she trusts to keep her safe.

  * * *

  It's easy for Wolf to risk his life to protect Haylee and give her the justice she desires. The hard part is taking a chance and admitting what's in his heart before it's too late.

  * * *

  Before he loses the best thing that's ever happened to him.

  Prologue

  Haylee Jamison rushed through the doors of the hospital and into the bright emergency room waiting area. Panic throbbed in her belly as she skidded to a stop in front of the desk. The receptionist looked up.

  “Nicole Montgomery,” she said. “She was brought in a few minutes ago?”

  The receptionist glanced down at her paperwork. Then she looked up, a blank expression on her face. “They’re working on her, Miss…?”

  “Jamison. Haylee.”

  “Are you family?”

  Haylee gnawed the inside of her cheek. “If you mean is she my best friend and roommate who I’ve known for the past five years then yes, we’re family. If you mean are we blood related, then no.”

  The woman—her name tag said Brandy—smiled. “If you want to have a seat, we’ll let you know as soon as we have news. I can’t promise you can go back, though. I can’t even promise I can give you much information.”

  “She called me…” Haylee swallowed the knot in her throat. Nicole had sounded so out of it. Like she was drunk. Though stoned was a better term. High on prescription pain pills. “I have a list of her medications.”

  She took out her phone and opened her notes. Brandy gave her a clipboard with some paperwork. “If you could fill this out—just write it all down here, please. I’ll see it gets to the right place.”

  Haylee’s hands trembled as she clutched the clipboard to her chest. “Thank you. Please… anything I can do, I will.”

  “Just fill that out as soon as you can.”

  “Right. I’ll do it now.” Haylee retreated to a chair and began to methodically write in the answers on the paperwork. She thought of Nicole this morning, the way her friend had seemed so jumpy and upset. Nicole’d had surgery a year ago to repair shoulder damage from her teenage years when she’d been a gymnast. After the surgery, her doctor gave her Percocet for the pain. That was a normal course of action, but when the pain didn’t ease, Nicole asked for more. And more. Until she couldn’t function without the pills. She’d begun doctor shopping, seeing different ones to get her fix when the previous one wouldn’t prescribe them anymore.

  Haylee sniffled and wiped her eyes, then kept writing. Dammit, Nicole. It wasn’t her friend’s fault, she knew that, and yet it angered her so much that a beautiful, promising life had suddenly been afflicted with the evil that was opioid addiction. Haylee didn’t know how to make it stop, though she tried to help Nicole however she could. She took her to appointments, took her to rehab, carried the burden of paying the rent and doing the grocery shopping when Nicole lost her job.

  She’d gotten another job three months ago, after being clean for six weeks. A good job with benefits working for a PAC with offices in DC. But this morning, when Haylee had been at the coffee shop working on a writing job so she could turn it in and get paid, Nicole had called her. It was a Saturday, so it wasn’t unusual for Nicole to be home. But Haylee’s blood ran cold when she realized what was happening.

  Nicole was high. Worse, something was wrong because Nicole was sobbing that her skin burned. Rather than scream at her friend for succumbing again, Haylee called 911. Then she’d shoved her computer and notes into her bag and raced over here.

  She swiped her eyes again, kept writing. When she finished, she took everything to Brandy, who thanked her and told her to take a seat. Haylee found a chair in the corner of the packed room and scrolled through her phone, gazing unseeing at her Facebook feed. Nicole’s last update popped up. A photo of her with a guy she’d met through work. Tony Davis, who looked exactly like the young up and coming DC lawyer he was. Worked for Senator Watson of Arizona. Nicole had found that such a cool coincidence because she was from Arizona and her parents still lived there.

  Oh God, Nicole’s parents. Haylee froze as she wondered whether or not to call them. She looked up at the packed waiting room, her gaze sliding over the faces there. The children with their parents. The elderly people in wheelchairs. The people in obvious distress, but not life threatening distress.

  Yes, she had to call Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery. They needed to know that Nicole had ODed, even if Nicole would be mad when this was all over that Haylee had told them. It wasn’t the first time, though Haylee prayed it was the last. But she’d prayed for that before, and it hadn’t worked out.

  While Haylee was rehearsing what she’d say to Nicole’s parents, the doors to the ER opened and a man in scrubs walked out. “Haylee Jamison?” he asked, reading the clipboard in his hand.

  Haylee’s heart dropped but she stood and made her way toward him. He turned his head, met her gaze, and the look on his face caused her breath to stop in her chest. She forced herself to keep walking.

  “Are you Haylee Jamison?”

  “Yes. Is Nicole okay?”

  He tried so hard not to frown—or at least she thought he tried. He didn’t quite manage it though. He motioned for her to follow him. They didn’t go far, just to
a little nook off the waiting room with chairs and a small table. She sat when he did. Then he looked at her, and the sorrow wasn’t gone. Her belly twisted.

  “Miss Jamison, I’m really sorry, but your friend… We tried. Her body shut down. I’m so sorry.”

  Haylee blinked as disbelief socked her between the eyes. “I… She’s gone?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  Oh my God… Nausea crashed into her. Her knees grew weak even though she was sitting. She wanted to scream. But she had to hold it together. Had to make sure he was right. “Can I… can I see her?”

  He frowned. And then he nodded. “Come with me.”

  It would be an hour before Haylee walked out of the hospital, nerves frayed, heart broken, tears streaming from her eyes. She had to call the Montgomerys. Had to find out what they wanted to do about the arrangements. Haylee already knew that Nicole didn’t have a will. They were in their twenties, two girls living in DC, working to make the world a better place. Or so they’d always hoped.

  They’d had plans. Live together, have fun, meet the right guy, get married, have kids, live in the same neighborhood and be besties for life. Girls’ trips. Wine and gossip and life issues. But it wasn’t going to happen that way because Nicole was gone.

  Haylee stood on the sidewalk, trying to process everything that had just happened. Life threw curveballs. She knew that. Had known it since her parents sat her down when she was eight and told her they were divorcing. She’d been so upset that Daddy wasn’t going to live with them anymore. But he’d promised he’d see her often. And he had at first. But then he got a new wife, new kids, and she saw him once a month. Then once every couple of months. Then once a year.

  Yeah, life threw curveballs. You swung, you missed, you kept trying.

  Haylee vowed then and there that she wasn’t going to let Nicole’s death be for nothing. She was going to write about this. If she saved one person, kept one person from getting addicted to pain meds, it would all be worth it.

  “I promise,” she whispered. Then she punched the button to dial Nicole’s parents.

  Chapter One

  Mexico-Guatemala Border

  Five months later…

  * * *

  Dean “Wolf” Garner waited for the jump command. He was standing nut-to-butt with his teammates, all of them suited up and ready to go. This was a HAHO jump where they’d fall out of the aircraft one behind the other, open chutes about fifteen seconds in and then coast for forty miles to the landing zone. Cade “Saint” Rogers was team lead and he’d be first out the door. Wolf was second. Echo Squad would stack up behind the leader while they were airborne and follow Saint’s lead as he guided them using GPS and landmarks.

  The C-130 Hercules doors were open and they’d switched over to oxygen bottles. HAHO jumps were hell on the body, whether from the minus-zero wind temps, the lack of oxygen and threat of hypoxia, or the incredible snap of the harness when the chute deployed. It was a necessary evil when trying to sneak up on the enemy, though.

  They were currently at T-minus two. The PT had cleared them all to jump and the jumpmaster was about to give the signal.

  “You bastards stick with me,” Saint said into their earpieces. “Let’s go get those hostages and get the fuck out.”

  Seconds later, Wolf was free falling into the sky behind Saint. Wolf deployed his chute, grunting as the harness snapped him hard against the restraints. Jesus. He was carrying a hundred pounds of gear and weaponry, which made the experience even more fun.

  He sighted in on Saint and lined up. The rest of the team followed, everyone checking in, and then they were gliding under canopy toward the LZ.

  The sun perched in the sky behind them, sinking quickly toward the horizon. Everything below was bathed in golden light that faded into darkness the farther east Wolf looked. It was a beautiful sight and he never took it for granted.

  The terrain here was mountainous and green and a river cut through the landscape, marking the border. This was the area where the Mexican cartels got their rocket-propelled grenades and grenade launchers as well as other military-grade equipment they used as they fought each other for territory. It’d be fine if all they did was kill each other, but unfortunately civilians often got caught in the crossfire.

  Sometimes those civilians were American, and sometimes they were held for ransom. Like now. A group of dentists and dental assistants on a mission to provide services to an impoverished village had been swept up in the raid and HOT had been tasked with getting them out.

  It took twenty minutes, but the team touched down and shrugged out of their chutes. They buried them, along with the special jumpsuits and oxygen canisters. Then they slung their M4 rifles across their chests and started the trek toward the camp where the Juarez cartel was holding the hostages.

  HOT had pictures of the camp from drone photography and they knew the layout and the approximate number of people who guarded it. Echo Squad wasn’t just there to extract hostages—they were also there to take out the cartel members who were in the camp. At last count, that had been twenty.

  Wolf didn’t feel sorry for the men. They were rough, evil, nasty men who terrorized innocent civilians. They killed indiscriminately, and they left messages in the form of headless bodies dangling from bridges and trees.

  No, Wolf had no problem with killing them.

  It took Echo another forty minutes to reach the camp. It was dark by then, and the cartel men were drinking. The camp was illuminated by battery-powered lights that spilled over the ground, picking out shapes and highlighting positions. The hostages were nowhere to be seen, but HOT knew they were being held in a rough concrete structure in the center of the camp. Ten men and women from somewhere in Alabama, on a religious mission to help the poor. They were no doubt terrified and probably dehydrated and hungry.

  “Like we planned it,” Saint said into their earpieces. The team split up and fanned out around the camp. Wolf and Noah “Easy” Cross slipped silently toward their target. They waited for the signal, then glided toward the men they’d marked, shadowed in darkness until almost the last moment. A quick slip of the knife and two cartel members would never harm anyone again.

  A man emerged from the building where the hostages were being held, dragging a woman. Wolf and Easy dropped back into the shadows. He was too caught up in what he was doing to notice his people weren’t at their stations. The woman was small and dark-haired and she fought mightily, twisting and tugging and slapping at the man’s hands. Wolf stiffened as the man wrenched her forward and thrust her against the side of the building. He put his mouth on her neck and she cried out “No!” She wrenched her head to the side and tried to hit him but he caught her wrist and pinned her to the wall while she continued to writhe.

  Wolf’s blood boiled. He signaled Easy. This one was his. Easy nodded, lifting his rifle to provide covering fire if necessary as Wolf crossed the distance. He was focused on his objective, but he could hear through the mic that the cartel members were falling quickly as his teammates took them out. Soon, Echo would converge on the building and the hostages would be freed.

  The woman was fighting hard when Wolf slipped up behind her attacker. Before Wolf could grab him, the man grunted and stumbled backward. His hands dropped to his crotch and Wolf nearly laughed. Smart girl. Brave girl. She’d kicked with all her might and bought herself a moment.

  Wolf yanked the man back and stabbed him in the kidney, dropping him to the ground. The woman didn’t wait. She sprinted for the darkness. Wolf caught her in two strides, spinning her back to him. Her dark eyes widened as her fists balled up. She was wearing a stained white button-down shirt that had been torn open and jeans with tennis shoes. Black hair whipped around her head in silken waves and his heart thumped once before he clamped down on the reaction. What the hell?

  “It’s okay,” he said quickly. “You’re safe.” He was clad all in black, face grease-painted, and he wore no distinguishing markers to tell her who he was with. Fo
r all she knew, he was from a rival cartel. A well-equipped one, but still scary after what she’d been through.

  As soon as he spoke, though, her shoulders sagged an inch. As if she knew she could relax. “You’re American?” she asked in a soft southern accent that vibrated with emotion. “You’ve come to rescue us?”

  “Yes,” he told her, turning to place her behind him as he scanned the camp for any stragglers. Someone shouted in the distance and a shot rang out.

  “Got him,” Jax “Gem” Stone said in Wolf’s ear. “Fucker.”

  “Status,” Saint ordered.

  “All clear,” Malcolm “Mal” McCoy replied. The rest of Echo squad followed suit.

  “Let’s get the hostages,” Saint said.

  Wolf turned back to the girl, knowing that Easy had his back and that his teammates were converging on the building to extract the rest of the hostages.

  “You okay?” he asked, dropping his gaze over her body, back up to her eyes. Dark, fiery eyes. Angry eyes. Her skin was golden in the soft light of the lanterns. She trembled, but she didn’t cower. She was exquisitely pretty now that he got a good look at her. Interest flared deep inside.

  Down, boy. Not the time or place.

  She lifted her chin as she pulled her shirt together. “I’m fine.”